


Blue

by theministerskat



Series: Kat's Other Outlander Tales [9]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Military, F/M, Separations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theministerskat/pseuds/theministerskat
Summary: Roger MacKenzie, a Wing Commander in the Royal Air Force, prepares himself for another deployment and says goodbye to his fiance.Tags will be added as the story progresses.





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This story comes from a prompt submitted to @otheroutlandertales over on Tumblr.
> 
> Anonymous said: Imagine Ian, Roger or Young Ian fought in a war and amongst the chaos … [redacted].
> 
> I am choosing not to publish the entirety of this prompt for reasons that will become clear as we move through the story. I will also be adding tags as I post new chapters.

**January 1996**

 

The full moon shone through a gap in the drapes, gleaming brightly across his face. The glow softly illuminated the bedroom and easily pulled him out of a restless sleep. A chill from the cold January night had permeated the room, but the small, feminine body curled into his side held off any cold he may feel.

He stared down at her, soft chestnut hair cascading over his arm beneath her and onto the pillow. She looked perfectly serene; her beauty lying in the simplicity of her features. His eyes traced the lines of her face, etching each sweep and curve into in his mind. It wasn’t to remember her, he had long been able to effortlessly recall her in his mind. This was an inventory, his way of holding himself accountable for each new wrinkle of worry she would gain in his absence.

Trying not to disturb her, he lifted his head barely an inch to peer at the clock on her nightstand. The red glow read _05:36_ , almost a half hour before it was set to go off. He closed his eyes, though not to sleep - he knew that would be pointless.

Instead, he slowly, carefully, disentangled himself from her warm embrace, mindfully tucking the quilt around her bare skin to keep out the cold. She didn’t wake, but her hand came out from beneath the cover, searching for him in her dreams. He wondered if she reached for him like that when he was gone,  piquing his guilt over accepting this new assignment.

Their inevitable separation had loomed over them both the last week, though they hadn’t talked about it. This was the same as all the other times, and she had long ago accepted the life he had chosen for them.

He quietly padded around to her side of the bed and shut off the alarm. Darkness greeted him in the hallway and he gently shut the door behind him, feeling his way to the bathroom.

Taps turned as hot as tolerable, he submerged himself under the rushing water, his body aching with fatigue. He had pulled her close to him in the late hours of the night, one last time, willing her to feel, to know, all the things he couldn’t vocalize. With passion, she responded to him, their bodies and minds in sync. Afterwards, they held each other, exchanging small caresses and lingering touches until they could no longer deny sleep.

He dressed methodically after his shower, his Wedgwood blue shirt pressed to perfection by her the night before. A sense of honor always came over him when he wore his best blues, and it helped ease the trepidation he felt.

He dug his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out the round ID disc he kept there. The stamped metal was rounded smooth from years of handling, but the MACKENZIE surname was still legible. Its pair had been buried with his father when he was still a bairn. He raised the warm metal to his lips, and sent up a silent prayer for luck, before tucking it back into his pocket.

The first signs of light were beginning to peek through the windows of the upper hall as he left the bathroom, alerting him to the encroaching hour. Making his way downstairs, he retrieved his jacket and oxfords from the hallway closet.

He sat down hard on the bench in the foyer, and it groaned under his weight. His reflection stared back at him in the reflection of his polished shoes, very much changed from when he had first joined up. She had been by his side all those years, but circumstances being what they were, he insisted on not putting her in a position of possibly becoming a war widow.

“Were ye gonna sneak out without saying goodbye?”

Her soft, sleepy morning voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up. She was standing on the last step of the staircase, leaning casually against the wall.

“ _Never._ ” He finished tying the last lace on his oxfords, pulled the leg of his trouser down, and smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle out of them it.

“I want to avoid the traffic on my way to Lossie.” He stood and slipped an arm into the sleeve of his jacket, moving towards her. He got the other arm in and with a shrugging motion the jacket fell into place around his shoulders. The toes of shoes thudded against the bottom of the first step as he came to a stop in front of her. “Buchanan will drive the car back for you in the morning.”

“That’s kind of Dougie to do.” She smiled and raised her hands to perfect his tie. Even with the advantage of the stair, the top of her head fell just below his nose.

“Aye, most likely he’s just out for the sweets he knows you’ll push on him for being so _kind_.” She raised a questioning eyebrow at him, but he silently shook his head in answer.

She had thrown on one of his old recruit sweaters before coming downstairs, and his fingers grazed along the bottom hem.

She leaned into him then, and the warmth of her body pressed against him. He embraced her by instinct. She held him tight, her arms locked around him beneath his jacket. Her hair smelled of lavender and vanilla, with traces of linen still clinging to her from sleep.

She didn’t say a thing, nor did he. He became more aware of her body through the layers of cloth between them, and a jolt of desire shot up the backs of his legs, as though he were standing on an electric grid. He tilted her chin and set his mouth on hers.

It was a kiss that spoke all the words they had not said, one that would hold them over until his return.

After what could have been a minute or an hour, he felt the the wetness of her tears, warm on his cheeks.

“Hey, Fi, look at me.” She lifted her chin so her eyes met his. “It’s just six months, we’ve made it through longer than that, yeah?” She closed her eyes and nodded, trying to force the tears back. “I’ll no be in any danger, you know that.” A single nod from her and he continued, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said, removing her arms from around him. “Don’t be sorry. I am so proud of ye.” She pulled the lapels of his jacket together and began buttoning them.

“Just be safe. I know ye think just because it’s not an active fight that it’s not a war zone. But it is.” Her hands reached his jacket belt and with practiced movements fastened it for him.

When she finished, he clutched her small hands in his much larger ones. Holding tightly, he felt the diamond of her ring press deeply into his palm. Raising herself on tiptoe, she met him halfway for a final kiss.

Moving towards the door, he bent to grab his rucksack and swung it over his shoulder. He turned back to her.

“I love you. I’ll be home soon.”

She lifted a hand to her brow in a mock salute. “I love you too, Wingco MacKenzie.” And with a tip of his officer’s hat, he left.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this story. 
> 
> If you would like to submit a prompt to Other Outlander Tales, or check out any of our other stories, you can do so by visiting me and the other mods over on Tumblr at otheroutlandertales.tumblr.com.


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